


This Love Came Back To Me

by plinys



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Femslash February Trope Bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-13 23:21:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3400025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/pseuds/plinys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I thought you were dead."</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Love Came Back To Me

**Author's Note:**

> Posting this now before canon joss'es it on Tuesday! Also it fills the "presumed dead" square on my bingo card!

Every inch of her hurts.

There are aches in places that Peggy didn’t even know she could feel aches, which is saying something because the war hadn’t been pleasant, but that aches are a good thing because it means she’s alive. She had thought for a second, before where the edges of her vision had been fading to black, that that had been the end. But here she was, laying in a hospital bed somewhere, the soothing voices of nurses talking around her mixed with another far too familiar voice, serving as the only signs that all of this was real and not some imagined form of the afterlife.  

Her eyes open far quicker than they probably should have for somebody in her state, when she finally figures out why that voice sounds so familiar.

It’s worth the sudden rush of pain to her head when her eyes meet Angie’s eyes, but it’s worth it to see the other woman again. The last time they’d seen each other was when she’d been led from the Griffith in cuffs, a lot had changed in the short time since then, everything coming to light all at once.

Throughout all of this mess though, there had always been a concern in the back of her mind for Angie. That she was safe had been more important to Peggy than most other things.

Peggy’s voice is raspy and her throat is unbelievably sore, but she manages to get out the question, “what are you doing here?”

Clearly that wasn’t the question that Angie wanted to hear, for her face goes from concerned to annoyed all at once. Peggy’s not sure whether it’s the pain medicine or not, but she finds that even while annoyed Angie looks positively adorable.

“I thought you were dead,” are the first words out of the other woman’s mouth, “your fancy friend came by the Automat, said it was an emergency. There were doctors all around, and blood everywhere, and they said you might not make it.”

“I’m a little more durable than that,” Peggy assures her, automatically moving to sit up, only to be stopped by Angie reaching out to hold her in place. Her grip is soft, nothing that Peggy couldn’t break out of had she wanted to, but there’s a kindness in her movements, as she pushes Peggy back into the hospital bed.

“The Docs said you’re not supposed to be moving about.”

“I feel fine.”

“You look like hell, English,” Angie informs her, with the barest hint of a sympathetic smile, “now just lay there until one of them come round and check on you, got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Peggy replies, sinking back into the thin sheets, “I imagine you have questions-“

“Most of them your ‘friends’ answered for me,” Angie tells her, “I mean, we’ll talk later, but for now, you being safe is all that matters.”

“You worried about me?”

“Of course I did, English, you looked so out of it when they dragged you out of the Griffith, then a few days later your friend shows up and tells me you’ve been _shot_.”

“He didn’t,” Peggy asks, already making a mental note to sternly reprimand Jarvis later about what was and was not appropriate to be telling civilians.

“He did,” Angie tells her.

She groans, not from pain but from exasperation – of course this would be how all of this goes down.

“I’ve been shot before, it was really nothing to be concerned about,” Peggy says.

The second part is certainly a stretch of the truth, but it’s worth it to see the slightly relieved look that crosses Angie’s face for a small moment.

“That’s not particularly reassuring, English.”

“It’s an occupational hazard,” she admits, before asking, “what else did he say?”

 “Nothing much,” Angie replies, “he mentioned you were asking for me in the middle of nearly dying, and that I had to come at once to see you.”

“Was I really?”

Angie shrugs her shoulders a bit, “not by time I got here, but everyone keeps saying it.”

“Ah yes, well, I suppose that would make sense.”

“And why’s that, English?”

This is something she ought to have said before.

Back when she was planning to sneak out of the Griffith, or just any time when she wasn’t lying in a hospital bed recovering from multiple bullet wounds and one (or two) failed experiments of a resident mad scientist.

But they’re at the point where it’s now or never and Peggy isn’t about to wait forever – not this time.

“Because I was thinking of you,” Peggy admits.

“You were thinking of me, when you got shot,” Angie says, her voice carrying just the hint of skepticism.

“Not exactly, I was thinking of you after I got shot,” she explains, “I kept thinking of all the things that I hadn’t done, that I hadn’t said, and how much I regretted not having a chance to do them.”

“And what kind of things might those be?”

“I think you know what I mean.”

“I need to hear you say it,” Angie tells her, “just to be clear, and all.”

She knows that the hopeful expression on her face is mirrored in Angie’s, and that makes this worth it that much more.

“For starters, I wouldn’t mind kissing you.”

The admittance feels like a weight lifted off her chest, and Angie’s smile in return seals the deal.

“I’d do it right now, if I weren’t worried about pulling your stitches.”

“I’m certain we could manage not to.”

Angie just laughs at that, “I’m not so sure about that one, English, I’ve been waiting for this so long that given the chance, I can’t promise I’ll hold back.”

“Then don’t.”

“The Docs will kill me,” Angie insists, but she’s already leaning forward, so Peggy knows that she’s won this battle.

“I’m a spy, Angie, I’d kill them before they could even think about it.”

“Aw you’re just too sweet, aren’t you?”

The teasing remark on the edge of her lips, remains unspoken when Angie finally leans forward to kiss her.

And any thoughts of pain or nearly dying, that she might have had, evaporate at once, with the touch of Angie’s lips against her own.  


End file.
